All the Broken Pieces
by Jezzyh89
Summary: Olivia Givens wakes to find her parents were killed by death eaters. With no living relatives, she's sent to a stranger(a shunned great aunt from Surrey). As she comes to meet Harry Potter and his friends,, secrets about who Olivia is are revealed, while Harry's Godfather would like to know why her grey eyes look so much like his brother's…


**A/N**

 **Hello readers! I hope you enjoy this new idea I wanted to share. For those of you who enjoy The Other Side and So close, there is more to come, I just felt a new inspiration and couldn't help but share. As always whatever changes you notice from the original was intended and that's the beauty of fanfiction. My OC is going to be quite a bit different than my OC from So close(who is eccentric and rather brilliant.) I plan to make Olivia a very likeable young girl with a great sense of humor. She will be very kind, a little broken but mentally very strong. She will be courageous to a fault, athletic, and a little silly when it comes to her interactions with boys. I also want her to be average when it comes to most of her schooling but incredible at defensive spells. I think doing this makes her quite relatable. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. As usual, I own nothing**

* * *

 **June 27th, 1995**

"She's sixteen." Professor Vander-Esch stated firmly.

She'd been my charms instructor since I'd first arrived at Ilvermorny all those years ago. A strict and challenging teacher with a heart of gold. My mother had always been close with Victoria. In fact the two had attended Ilvermorny together and even shared a room. Now, standing outside my hospital room at Sayre Medical(a wizarding hospital in L.A), she argued on my behalf.

"We have no choice, Victoria." The man whom I didn't recognize said coldly before continuing. "Miss Givens has no other living relatives."

I clenched my fists, blinking away the tears that fell across my cheeks. In truth I'd barely stopped crying since I'd first awoken the day before. But news like that can break even the strongest of souls…

 _My eyes had felt heavy and even my toes seemed to ache. With a deep breath, I took in my surroundings. The all white room was unrecognizable, with its plain walls and a single window to my left. The bed I was laying in felt more like rocks as I shifted uncomfortably, wincing at the sudden pain near my right ribs. Groaning, I reached for my side instinctively, catching a glimpse of the bruises that covered my arms. My voice felt horse as I tried to speak, before a healer quickly entered my room._

 _"There there, Miss Givens, just try to relax. Glad to see the bones in your arms have healed."_

 _She was a thin elderly woman with white hair and large brown eyes. Glancing down at me, she placed a hand in my hair before continuing. "I could make you a calming draft if you'd like."_

 _"Why-" I tried to speak, sounding like a toad. "How did I get here?" I couldn't even remember my parents taking me to the hospital or how in the hell I'd gotten myself so beaten up. By the looks of my own arms, it appeared I'd taken on a werewolf and lost...Badly._

 _She smiled weakly before looking as though she were searching for the right words. 'Let me get that draft." She was out of my room before I had the chance to speak again._

 _Closing my eyes, I desperately searched my thoughts for what had happened but no matter how hard I tried, nothing would come to mind. The last thing I remembered was lazily summoning a book to my bed that had been sitting on my dresser. It had been just before dinner and the smell of my mother's scallop potatoes filled the air. An uneasy feeling began to fill my chest as I shifted in bed, trying my best to sit up. With another groan, I pulled myself up, as the pain intensified tenfold near my ribs._

 _"Oh, sweetheart, you really shouldn't be trying that just yet." With a long exhale, I clenched my jaw until the pain finally subsided._

 _"Ple-please jus-just tell me- tell me how I got here." Handing me the draft, she gripped the armrest of my bed._

 _"Drink." It will help, I promise." Though it seemed as if she'd meant that the draft she'd concocted would help my pain, something about the way she'd spoke made me think there was more to it. That perhaps what I'd wanted to know was truly a loaded question and without the draft I'd be facing much more than a pain on my side._

 _Raising the draft to my lips, I shot it down, readily expecting an unpleasant taste(my time in potions had taught me that some of the strongest concoctions came with the most horrifying flavors). As soon as I'd swallowed the liquid, the pain was nothing but a memory as a pleasant warmth seemed to fill every corner within me. With a sigh, I relaxed onto my pillows, thankful for the sudden peace her potion had brought me._

 _"Much better, right?" The elderly healer had said with a warm smile. I nodded before gently closing my eyes._

 _"Where are my parents?" I'd asked, though this time it had been a great deal easier to talk._

 _"A professor of yours from Ilvermorny is on the way. Just wait, sweetheart." Nodding once again, I fell asleep with ease and didn't wake until Professor Vander-Esch had arrived with an employee of MACUSA. The man, who did not appear to be taller than me(which meant he must have been around five foot five), had cold brown eyes and a pudgy face. He stared at me questioningly before looking at the parchment he'd been holding. Professor Vander-Esch, who's red hair was fastened in a tight bun, smiled at me warmly. But the sadness in her eyes could not be concealed, and though the potion still had its effects on me, I knew that I should be concerned._

 _"Miss Givens, can you describe what you remember from this evening?" My gaze shifted toward Professor Vander-Esch, who gave me an encouraging look._

 _"Sorry. who are you?" I asked, wondering why he didn't introduce himself._

 _With an impatient sigh, he spoke. "My name is Wincent and I work for MACUSA. I am here to investigate the incident at hand and deal with your inheritance."_

 _"What incident?" I started out. "My inheritance? I'm not supposed to receive it til my eighteenth birthday." I knew I shouldn't have felt so calm. Though they hadn't told me just yet, I could sense what was about to be said, and because of that I should have been reeling inside. I watched as Victoria's hand touched the man's chest to interlude. She was irritated by his apparent approach but also filled with sadness that she was desperately trying to hold back._

 _"Olivia." I hardly ever heard her use my first name, I thought before she continued. "There was an attack." She said, swallowing. I quickly took notice of her hands as they'd started to shake. Professor Vander-Esch crossed her arms but I had always been quick to notice my surroundings and realized she was doing her best to compose herself. "Some followers of You-Know-Who must have believed that your father, who was a member of The Order of the Phoenix during the first war against You-Know-Who, had information they required. They broke into your home " She paused as I now began to wish I hadn't drank that potion at all. "Olivia they- your parents- they were killed. Olivia I'm so so sorry."_

 _My hands gripped the blanket as I tried to push pass the calm. I felt robbed of my true emotions. I knew deep down that I should be full of anguish, and though the emotion was there, I couldn't truly feel it. Before she could speak Wincent moved closer to me._

 _"Yes, we are sorry this happened, however, the investigation has hit a wall and we need to know everything you remember."_

 _"I don't think this is an appropriate time to interrogate the girl." Victoria snapped._

 _Wincent's head jerked to face Professor Vander-Esch. "The longer we wait for answers the easier it will be for them to elude us. Or do you believe her dead parents do not deserve justice?"_

 _Professor Vander-esch looked aghast. I could see she was ready to hex this jerkwad into next week and if I hadn't felt so relaxed I likely would have fought through the pain, grabbed my Cypress wand with unicorn hair and done the same. I didn't understand how anyone could be so cruel._

 _"I can't believe-" She began to yell before I interrupted. "Professor Vander-Esch." I started out. Closing my eyes I wondered if I was capable of truly processing her words or if that would come after the potion faded. "I'd rather get this over with so he can just get the hell out of my hospital room."_

 _"So start by telling us what you remember." He said sharply. Still gripping the blanket, I tried to remember something, even if it had been the smallest of details but still came up empty. Shaking my head, I looked to them both._

 _"The last thing I remember is being in my room. I was reading. Everything else is just- gone."_

 _"They could have wiped her memories." Victoria said._

 _Wincent shook his head. "It's more likely her head injury was the reason for that. If she were knocked out, they may have assumed she was dead and left. Perhaps if we extract her memories, her subconscious may have been lucid enough to catch even the slightest of conversations."_

 _"Just take it and go." I said, ready to be left alone. I really didn't want to take the chance of him being there when the potion finally wore off. Once the pain hit me, I'd be a broken disaster and would hate myself for falling apart in front of such an asshole._

 _"The spell is slightly different than a typical extraction and will require you to concentrate on the very last moment you remember, so that I might be able to take what happened after with it." Doing as he asked, Wincent moved toward me. As the hair-like wisp exited my head, Victoria kept her gaze fixed on me. It was clear she was waiting to give me comfort when it all hit me, and I knew, having literally no one else, I would accept it._

 _"Now." He started out, gesturing to the papers in his hands. "On the matter of your inheritance."_

 _"Enough!" Professor Vander-Esch snapped. "Return in the morning, Mr Waterbury. You've already told me that by then you'd be able to discover if her parents had left specifics on who would be a suitable guardian. She can sign the necessary documents when you have that information. For now, as her acting guardian and closest family friend, I insist you leave at once."_

 _Giving her a stern expression, he sighed. "Fine. But I have business to attend to before noon tomorrow in New York so I will be here at nine AM." Turning on his heel, Wincent quickly made his way out of my room._

 _"I am so terribly sorry that you had to experience such an insensitive-"_

 _"Prick?" I finished. She scrunched her face disapprovingly._

 _"Language, Miss Givens." She swallowed. as her eyes began to weld with tears. "Olivia." Looking up, she blinked, quickly wiping the tears that had fallen to her cheeks. Reaching for my hand, she held it tight. "I wish I had something to say that could make this better. Your parents were always so wonderful. I-I." She stopped, as if she couldn't find the words._

 _"Professor Vander-Esch?" I started with pleading eyes. She nodded as if gesturing for me to continue. "This calming potion is gonna wear off, and when it does, I'd really prefer it if you were here." She tilted her head in empathy before caressing my cheek._

 _"Ofcourse_."...

Just as she'd said, Professor Vander-Esch was there the minute the effects had worn off. The ache had been so deep I could barely find the will to breathe. With every ounce of the pain, I released through my cries, as my entire body seemed to shake. Victoria held me tight, until I'd reached a state of such exhaustion I'd fallen asleep. By the time the morning had come, my body felt as if I hadn't slept at all. Though the healer had brought me breakfast(That Professor Vander-Esch insisted I eat) it was hard enough to keep from crying let alone worry about an appetite I didn't have. I sat up, straining to hear Wincent and Professor Vander-Esch's conversation. It was, afterall, about my future. And with Victoria fighting on my behalf, I hoped she could convince him otherwise. Because his idea sounded terrible.

"I don't understand how she can't stay in America with me. I've known her mother since we both attended Ilvermorny ourselves! I am obviously financially stable, could tend to her studies, and I've watched her grow."

Wincent sighed, clearly tired of Professor Vander-Esch's attempts to take responsibility of me. "They never named you as a legal guardian, Victoria. The law states that custody is granted to a living relative unless a will and testament can dispute that but her parents listed no one."

I'd had enough. With an exasperated sigh, I spoke out. "Don't I get a say?" I yelled to grab their attentions. The pain in my chest made it hard to breathe, and as much as I had attempted to appear strong, my shaking hands were a dead giveaway to how I was truly feeling inside.

Wincent and Professor Vander-Esch entered my room. "You might wish for a say, Miss Givens, but your opinion matters very little when it comes to the law. The truth is, perhaps in time Victoria could gain custody but for now you must be sent to live with your closest living relative in England."

The anxiety in my heart seemed to expand throughout my body. It moved with a vicious anguish that burned like fire. Clenching my fists I looked toward the window, avoiding eye contact with Wincent. As the tears fell unwillingly, I bit my lip while it quivered despite how hard I tried to hold it back. I of course knew the person Wincent was ready to send me to(though I'd never officially met her). She was my great aunt and my family had written her off because she was a squib. My mother had only met her a couple of times and told me she was quite eccentric. Still, none of this made a difference. It wouldn't have mattered if I had known her. It wouldn't have mattered if we had a beautiful relationship and she were practically a second mother. All that mattered was my parents were gone. They'd been killed. And I was alone.

"It says right here." Wincent started out as he read off a sheet of paper that held my fate. "Your great Aunt Arabella Figg is living in Little Whinging. Upon your recovery, you'll be moved there. I've also contacted Headmaster Dumbledore in regards to completing your education at Hogwarts."

At that point, everything he said sounded like white noise and I didn't even have the strength to hold back my pain. I didn't even bother wiping my tears. They fell freely. And as Professor Vander-Esch wrapped her loving arms around me, I selfishly imagined they were my mother's arms. And yet, even this did nothing to dull the ever present ache I feared would never leave. Their death would always be a permanent broken piece of my heart.

* * *

 **July 10th, 1995**

 _Dear Professor Vander-Esch, I know I haven't been here long, but I'm ninety-nine percent sure I am going to blow my brains out(Yes, I will find a no-maj weapon and use it because a wand isn't going to have the effect I want). Aunt Arabella is super weird. She has far too many kneazles that constantly give me "the eye"... You know, like they are plotting my death? It's a feline thing... She has left the house almost every night and assumed I never noticed so when I asked her about it she told me(very sternly) that Dumbledore himself has given her a job to do and so she has done it thoroughly for a long time(whatever the hell that means). I met him, by the way- Dumbledore. He's very old looking. And he kept looking at me like he was trying to figure me out. He told me that he looked at my previous scores(don't think I am not aware you gave them to him) and believes I'll do very well at Hogwarts, but I'll have to attend as a fifth year as Ilvermorny teaches at a slower pace(I want to personally thank Headmaster Boot for this awesome situation as I now have to be taught with kids younger than me so I look like an idiot at school). I still wish I could just continue at Ilvermorny but as usual my opinion is asinine. You asked me if I still have the nightmares, and that's a yes. Even though MACUSA has still kept my memories as a part of the investigation(are you still trying to fight that by the way?), my own mind has come up with horrible scenarios of the moment I lost them. Every day hurts but I keep trying to repeat what you told me, to keep moving forward. Easier said than done but I'll get there._

 _Thanks for staying in touch and I will write you again soon.,_

 _Olivia_

Setting down my quill, I folded the letter, placing it securely in the envelope. Turning to Castor, I stroked the back of my owls head.

"Got another one for you." With a soft hoot, he grabbed the letter and took off out my open window, sighing, I wished I could fly to Victoria myself and hoped she would be able to gain guardianship soon. Glancing around my room, the gray walls were empty. Arabella had cleared her spare bedroom in order for me to do whatever I wanted to it. I hadn't placed a single photo on the walls or had even unpacked my bags. Everything I owned remained locked away as if I were simply waiting to get a call to leave this place. If I couldn't have things the way they were before I lost my parents, I at least wanted something familiar and I could have it at Professor Vander-esch's home.

Pulling me from my thoughts, Arabella knocked at my door. "Yes?" I called out to her.

She pushed the door open, holding a pot of tea and sporting an awkward smile. "Would you like a cup?" She asked. It was clear she was struggling with this situation as much as I was. She hadn't been a part of my mother's family in years. In fact they'd outcasted her, and then along came little old me. A just turned sixteen year old girl to have to take care of.

Smiling, I tucked my long black hair behind my ears. "I hate tea, but I'll go downstairs with you."

With a snort, she spoke. "What do young American witches drink then?"

I laughed before standing to my feet from my bed. "Caramel apple cider with a sprinkle of cinnamon."

"Sounds delightful." She answered. As we made our way down the stairs. her kneazles surrounded my feet. I wasn't much for felines, but was glad they didn't do anything other then give me silent snears. I suppose they sensed my dislike for them, but left me alone as I clearly wasn't a threat.

Standing in the kitchen, I sat at her small round table with two chairs. It smelled of pet dander and homemade bread as she sat beside me, placing the pot of tea on the table. The two of us had kept our conversations brief but civil since I'd arrived and she'd mostly left me to my thoughts while she knitted on her rocking chair near a fireplace she'd never lit(it was a scorching summer).

"How are you?" She asked with furrowed brows. I could tell she wanted a true answer but I wasn't one to open up with just anyone.

Shrugging, I began fiddling with my hands as I stared at my feet. "I'm dealing."

"I never really knew your mother." She started out. "In fact, the last time I saw her was when my brother-her father- had chosen to move to America." She took a sip of her tea, reaching down to stroke Tibbles. "Your mother was not even five yet." Suddenly, Arabella seemed to be taken away by a memory. Her eyes were sad for just a moment before she shook it away. "But that was a long time ago."

Looking at her, I realized just how alone she must have felt for the majority of her life. I had always known that grandpa acted as if he didn't even have a sister; completely ashamed that she was a squib. Even my mother had spent her life pretending she didn't exist. She was an aunt I'd never met and had only been told that she didn't belong in our family.

In truth, I'd never cared enough to truly think what my mother, and grandfather, were doing was wrong. She was still a person and they were treating her as if she weren't. I'd been too wrapped up in my own happiness and pride in being a witch I never payed attention to their prejudices. Now, as I considered all she'd been through, I realized we were kind of one in the same. Two people left alone by the ones we loved. Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, I wrapped my arms around myself as I bit my lip. I knew she'd invited me down to get to know me but the feelings were rising to the surface and I just wasn't ready to explore them with her yet. Rising to my feet, I pulled out my wand.

"I think I better practice some spells. Ya' know, new school and all." I smirked before continuing. "It's the school of the famous Harry Potter so I better look like a badass."

Arabella suddenly smiled wide as her eyes danced with humor, like she knew something I did not. With another sip, she spoke before I could ask her what that look had been about.

"Poor boy. He's been through too much, and after what happened last month I fear he'll never be the same." "

You mean with Cedric Diggory?" I said somberly.

She gave a slight nod. "You know, it's not just that his friend died." She started out. "It's that the Ministry is claiming his story is false."

"Horseshit." I said boldly, causing Arabella to choke on her tea. "What would Harry Potter gain from making something like that up? You-Know-Who had a lot of power back then. Who's to say he didn't find a way to come back?" I raised my hands above my head dramatically, feeling suddenly annoyed with England's magical government. "We live in a world where dragons are real, magic is possible, and alchemy exists but they won't believe You-Know-Who could have returned?"

Arabella merely shrugged as she sipped her tea. Staring at me curiously, she smirked. I could tell she was about to say something before reconsidering. "What is it?" I said, forgetting that I'd wanted my solitude just a moment ago(the conversation had steered from my own personal situation to something I'd been fascinated with for years. _The Boy Who Lived_ ). She shook her head, waving her arm as if to gesture it was nothing.

"Oh, it's just nice to see a young witch not easily influenced by the masses." She raised her cup to me slightly before continuing. "You got good marks at school didn't you?" She asked smiling.

I shrugged. "I've never failed a class, if that's what you mean." I paused thinking back to my time at Ilvermorny. I was always a pretty good student. Never extraordinary and never exceedingly terrible, but always staying on top of my studies even if my best efforts were never quite as strong as some of the brightest students. I'd always been the girl who loved my broom and was quick to beat even the boys when we'd dual(I had the reflexes of a zouwu, my dad would always say).

I raised a finger as if to make a point. "Though I am pretty good with defensive spells."

"Well that will come in handy." She said before she closed her eyes, shaking her head as if she'd revealed too much. I was beginning to realize that Aunt Arabella had a lot of secrets. There were things that were clearly going on here that she didn't want me to be a part of. And though I wasn't entirely sure, I had a pretty good feeling it was serious. Honestly, it didn't take a genius to know it had to be big the way she snuck out most nights and would say something like that. Defensive spells were used to protect one's very life and if she thought it would come in handy, whatever she assumed was coming must be pretty damn big….

* * *

After we'd had our first real conversation since my arrival, I'd eaten the cookies she'd offered before heading to my room to practice spells.

Again, I'd seen Arabella leave from my window late in the evening as she hid beneath the hood of her raincoat. She looked back once but I'd already hid before she'd spotted me watching.

I had almost considered following her simply out of curiosity. If my assumptions were right I might stumble upon something truly scandalous but had chosen against it.

She was, afterall, a squib(it wasn't like she could be out vanquishing death eaters like some kind of midnight witch-vigilante and maybe telling me Dumbledore had given her a job to do was a tiny fib to make herself feel better) and these evening outings could have simply been a trip to the local bar(or pub as she likely called it). Maybe after a busy day of kneazle breeding the lady needed a stiff drink and if that were true, my snooping would be for nothing. Glancing toward the window once more, II tapped my foot against the floor,

before pacing the length of my room. I began to wonder if assuming that a squib couldn't help were any different than the way my mother and grandfather had shunned her like a plague.. Just because she had no magic didn't mean she wasn't capable of great things.

Feeling suddenly horrible for my previous thoughts I sighed. "You can be a real shit, Olivia." I said, aloud to myself. With a deep exhale, I fell onto my bed, staring at the blank ceiling. Thoughts of my mother's passed words filled my mind. Though they were never as blatantly harsh as some people's, thinking back on them, there was always a hint of prejudice to what she'd say.

 _"I'm not saying half-blood or no-maj borns can't do magic, I just can't imagine how much harder it must be to produce great spells when your blood is working against you. Sad really."_ She'd said that when I'd become friends with Dawna Dalby- a half blood from Iowa. " _What about that boy who is a thunderbird like you? You know, Maximus Baker? I thought you said he was gorgeous? His family is pureblood, you know_." She'd stated when I'd mentioned I had had a crush on a no-maj born named Kellen. There were so many moments just like that where my mother's inner character was revealed but I'd spent a lifetime ignoring it. I guess given my own blood status I didn't have to worry about what someone like my mother might think of me which made it easier to ignore. But being with Arabella changed things and though my mother was gone, I hoped I could fix the wrongs my family had caused Arabella.

Still, despite my mother's flaws, I couldn't bring myself to truly be angry with her. She'd given me so much love over the years. Both my parents had. They were invested in my life and always told me I would be an amazing auror someday(it was my dream after all). Wiping away the sudden tears, I pulled the covers over myself, not even bothering to change into pajamas. It had been a long day and I would need the extra sleep if I planned on following Aunt Arabella tomorrow evening (which was exactly what I was going to do). It was time for me to discover what this sneaky night traveler was up to.

As sleep eventually took me, I began to dream. It was a memory I hadn't thought of in years…..

 _"Mommy." I said. I was small. Likely five or six as I sat across my mother's lap. She smiles at me warmly while I fiddled with with her long hair._

 _"Yes love?"_

 _"Why do I have black hair when you and daddy have yellow? And why do I have grey eyes when you and daddy have brown?"_

 _With a smirk, my mother punched my nose. "You just take after your grandma."_

 _My nose scrunched as I watched little me shake my head. "Grandma Rose has yellow hair too."_

 _My mother chuckled before rustling my hair. "Your other grandma then." As she began to tickle me, I was distracted and forgot the conversation entirely…. As my dream began to change and fade, I watched as an eight year old me trotted down the hallway of our home before hearing my mother's cries. peeking through the cracked door, she gripped a photo in her hand as her shoulders shook from her sobs._

 _"Mommy?" Little me said with concern._

 _Jolting at my voice, she shoved the photo under her pillow and forcefully wiped away her tears. "Olivia, give mommy a minute." She smiled and shut the door._

 _I could see my curiosity growing, and later that evening I sneakily went into her room to retrieve the photo. I recognized my mother instantly, even though it was obvious the photo was very old. She kissed the boys cheek before he used his wand to create a rose, handing it to her. I knew right away the boy was not my father. His hair was dark like mine and grey eyes were so samilar to my own it felt unnerving. The boy was a stranger to me and as a child, I never noticed just how familiar his face was…_..

As I woke from my dream, I tried to ignore the sudden suspicion growing in my chest. I had remembered bringing up the photo(that I never saw again and assumed my mother had gotten rid of) asking my mother who it was, in which she replied just a boy she had a crush on years ago who died trying to stop a very bad man. With a long exhale I pushed aside a possible truth and did everything I could to fall back asleep.

* * *

"How are your scrambled eggs?" Aunt Arabella asked. "I can't remember the last time I cooked breakfast for anyone." She smiled, waiting excitedly for my reply.

With another bite, I grinned. "They taste great. Nice and fluffy just the way I like." She beamed before rising to her feet.

"Brilliant." She said, pleased with herself before heading toward the stove to clean up.

'Aunt Arabella, please." I said, stopping her. "Let me take care of the cleaning." Pulling out my wand, I gave it a flick, before the dishes began to do themselves.

She turned to me with a smirk before shaking her head. "Show off."

Giggling I quickly finished my eggs. "Would you be okay with me going for a walk today? I'm a little tired of being cooped up."

Arabella seemed to stop in her tracks. A mischievous grin began to form on her lips before she spoke. "I think that would be an excellent idea." She started out. "In fact why not head toward Little Whinging Park?" It's close by and you never know who you might meet."

There was such enthusiasm to her tone, it had come off a little bizarre. Almost as if she were expecting something fascinating to occur. Raising an eyebrow, I gave her a curious expression. "Um. K" I said before heading toward the bathroom to get ready.

Turning on the shower, I looked at myself in the mirror. I hadn't eaten much since I lost my parents and had just recently gotten back my appetite and my weight loss was beginning to show. My collar bones had risen a little and my pajama pants were slightly loose. Dark circles were beginning to form under my grey eyes and my skin was much paler than normal.

"Yikes." I said, noticing for the first time just how much I was allowing my parent's death to affect my well being. "Pull yourself together Liv."

With the steam now filling the room, I stepped into the tub, letting the hot water relax my tense muscles. Closing my eyes, I imagined my parents.

They were alive and well, and I was back at home in Oregon. I never had to be sent away. I never had to leave my best friend Dawna. I was still going to Ilvermorny and could finally know what it felt like to be kissed(I was certain sixteen would be the year and Kellen O'Harris would be the guy). But as I opened my eyes, I remained in Little Whinging. Miles from my home and never going back. Crying once more, I covered my mouth to quiet my sobs before leaning against the tub wall, sliding down to sit. It seemed that not even small moments of happiness, like my interactions with Aunt Arabella, could stop what my heart truly wanted. I was stuck and as much as I knew I could only move forward, my broken heart was begging for me to stay where I was. To plant my feet and be stuck in the past.

* * *

Recovering from a breakdown wasn't always easy, but releasing what I felt, although mostly in private, seemed to give me moments of peace where I could live my day somewhat normally.

As I stepped outside, I was met with a searing and almost unbearable heat. Given my life in Portland(where rain or overcast is routine) I was certain this kind of sun would roast me like a Thanksgiving turkey.

I guess if I was going to move somewhere it just had to be during a record heatwave., I thought to myself. The street was quiet, with several neighborhood kids playing in their kiddy pools. I walked toward the park as Aunt Arabella had suggested, with my wand snug against my hip and jean shorts and beneath my noodle strap tank top. I'd placed my long thick hair in a ponytail, knowing it would only make the heat that much warmer if I'd left it flowing over my shoulders.

Reaching the park there was only three other people. An older boy, who looked about my age, who lay in the grass farthest from me, and a young girl playing on a single swing(the park seemed to have taken some damage and by the looks of it I'd assumed they were idiot vandals). I

t was a small park with not much to offer, and with the heat barreling down on my skin I wondered where the nearest diner was(I'd managed to transfer some of my inheritance to local no-maj money for these such occasions).

"Come along, dear!" The mother said, just before I'd contemplated leaving. The little girl instantly leaped off the swing and ran toward her mother, leaving a place for me to sit before I searched for some other form of entertainment(and hopefully with air conditioning).

I watched the mother and daughter skip out of the park, as the little girl giggled, holding her mother's hand.

The scene tugged at my heart as I imagined playing with my own mother as a child. Swallowing, I quickly looked back toward the swing, not willing to cry in a public area. To my surprise, the boy I'd noticed on the grass now sat on the swing. It was clear he'd been waiting for an opening and took it before I had the chance. S

ighing, wiped the first drop of sweat off my sweat on my forehead. After a moment, I realized just how familiar the teenager looked. Dark hair, round glasses, average build. This was the famous Harry Potter! Staring at him in shock, he glanced my way awkwardly, as it was obvious he was getting uncomfortable with my gawking.

"Oh my gosh." I said aloud, making my way toward him. "I can't believe this! And at this random park no less!"

He raised a brow as he watched me approach him. "This is why she told to come here, she figured I'd run into you!" Gasping I shook my head before continuing. "That sneaky sneak! I can't believe she never told me. Do you live around here?"

Still giving me a bizarre expression he finally spoke. "Sorry, do I know you?" Realizing just how ridiculous I sounded, I covered my face with my hands before smirking. "Sorry, got a little star struck. I just never thought I'd run into you here, I mean I knew I'd likely see you at school this fall but to find out Aunt Arabella kept this from me." I shook my head at the thought before realizing I was rambling. "Sorry I tend to speak super fast when I'm caught off guard. It's just really cool to be meeting Harry Potter. Even in America your famous."

He looked genuinely shocked, as if me knowing who he was was the last thing he expected. "Are you- are you not a muggle?" He whispered.

I laughed. "That is still the strangest word. Back home we call them no-majs." I pulled up my tank top the revealed the handle of my wand still snug against my hip. "I'm a witch, actually. My name's Olivia."

Harry seemed to light up before rising to his feet. He took my hand with a grin. "Nice to meet you Olivia, I'm Harry." He smirked. "But you already knew that. When did you move here?"

"Last month." I answered. "But I've been kind of a hermit over the last few weeks." I played with my hands and looked toward the ground for a moment hoping he wouldn't ask why, and by his expression I got the feeling he'd noticed.

Changing the subject, Harry asked, "So where in America are you from?" "

Portland, Oregon. It's really the only place I've known. Well, except for my time at Ilvermorny which is in Massachusetts."

"So now you might attend Hogwarts?" He asked enthusiastically. "It's really great there."

"Yeah, actually I am. Kind of a bummer though." I paused raising a finger as if to make a point. "Not that I'm saying Hogwarts is bad, I'm sure it's awesome, it's just I guess Ilvermorny teaches at a different pace so my skill level is that of a Hogwarts fifth year, and I'm actually sixteen."

Again Harry's smile was rather wide. For a moment, I got the feeling it had been a while since something this exciting had happened. I realized, after what he'd recently been through, maybe being a part of the wizarding community(even though I was a small and pretty insignificant part) was just something he needed.

"I'll be a fifth year and so will my best friends Ron and Hermione. So we'll likely have classes together." Harry ran a hand through his dark and unruly hair. His green eyes were vibrant and I couldn't believe how much better looking he was in person than on all those newspaper articles I'd read. "That depends on the house your sorted into. At Hogwarts students from different houses are often combined into a class but never all four houses at once.' I imagined being sorted like I had been at Ilvermorny and realized it would likely happen with a group of eleven year olds surrounding me and I'd stick out like a sore thumb.

"Let's just hope I get the best house then." I said playfully.

"That'd be Gryffindor." He said with pride. "That's my house. Hermione and Ron's as well."

"I was a Thunderbird back home."

"What were you sorted in there for?" He asked, and I knew right away he was trying to guess where I'd end up when I attended Hogwarts I swallowed, a little nervous that if I said, he would tell me I'd be in another house other than his. Though I was sure I'd be fine in the end, it was just really great to meet another student(especially considering it was Harry freakin Potter) and being in his house would have made my transition a hell of a lot easier.

"Thunderbird's represent the soul and favor adventurers." I started out. ]"But a lot of students are sorted into more than one house and ultimately get to choose which one they prefer and it was between Thunderbird and Pukwudgie, which represents the heart and favors healers."

Harry seemed to contemplate this for a moment, before speaking. "Sounds like you could be a Gryffindor or maybe a Hufflepuff, which a good too." He grinned. There was something awkward in his mannerisms when he spoke to me that made me wonder if he was a little nervous, and I couldn't help but find it adorable. From the way he kept running his hand through his hair, to the way he smiled at me with his head slightly facing down and his eyes looking toward me from beneath his dark brows. Harry Potter was adorable.

"Hufflepuff is Cedric Diggory's house." Harry's face instantly changed as he seemed to recall a painful memory. "Was his house." He finished. His voice was much lower and his shoulders seemed to slouch. I had never been through the things I'd read that Harry had faced. Battling a basilisk and facing Voldemort twice with one time resulting in the death of a friend. But I had lost my parents. We shared a grief not many people had known. And in that moment I was compelled from my empathy to not only comfort him but speak about our shared pain.

"Harry, I'm so sorry about what happened, and I don't care what your Ministry leader says. I believe you. If you say, You-Know-Who is back then he's back." Swallowing, my hands began to shake before I crossed my arms around my waist. "Besides." I'd started out, realizing that talking about my parents was much easier said than done. "Death eaters- they- they came to my home." I took a shallow breath feeling as if my courage was suddenly failing. Still, knowing it was the right thing to do, I fought for it to return and continued. "They killed my parents. If Voldemort wasn't back then death eaters wouldn't be on the move."

Looking up from the ground, Harry seemed to be taking in the weight of my words. There was relief in his eyes, like knowing someone believed him felt incredible, but also sadness. "I'm sorry, Olivia." He said. And though it wasn't the first time I'd heard it since their death, it was the first time I'd heard it sound like the person understood. And knowing Harry had lost his parents, I knew that to be true.

Biting my lip, I refused to cry in front of him. I would not do that in front of a dangerously cute boy. Hell to the no, I thought to myself. "Thanks." I said, almost sounding like I'd been hit with a jinx that caused a frog to exist in my throat.

Feeling the need to instantly change the subject, I spoke. "Look it's so hot I feel like Little Whinging could possibly be some kind of entrance into hell." Harry laughed at this causing me to do the same before I continued. "Would you like to get something to eat with me? Maybe at a diner or restaurant or coffee house nearby? I have some no-maj money and would totally buy you something."

Realizing my own words I spoke. "Not that I'm asking you on a date. I wouldn't do that." I bit my lip. "Not that I wouldn't ask you on a date, you're very cute." I felt my cheeks burn but this time it wasn't from the sun. "Okay. I'm just going to stop now. Maybe find a bridge and walk off of it."

Harry chuckled, looking rather flattered. His wide grin reached every corner of his face. By his beaming expression it was almost as if he'd never really been complimented by a girl before, which I found extremely hard to believe considering who he was. After a few awkward moments, Harry finally spoke. "No need to jump off a bridge, that sounds brilliant. I know a good place for a not-date."

"Cool." I said, still feeling embarrassed about my rambling. As Harry guestered for me to follow, a new happiness that I hadn't felt in weeks seem to overcome me. Like meeting Harry was exactly what I needed, and I hoped that this summer would be my chance to get my mind off the pain and onto a possible friendship.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and there will be more to come I promise. Please leave a review it helps me a lot. Thanks!**


End file.
